Kissing Killian Jones
by myheroandmycaptain
Summary: Emma learns more about Killian with every kiss they share. This is only five of them.


_AN - This normally would have been in my Bits and Baubles collection of fics but it's a bit long so I thought it deserved it's own space. As always, thank you for taking the time to read my stories and thank you if you feel so moved to leave me a review of what you thought of the fic. It's rated M for mentions of smut and language. Much love - Dani  
><em>

* * *

><p>Emma knew the first time she kissed Killian Jones, it wouldn't be the last time despite anything she said, or thought, afterwards. In the deepest corners of herself, she knew better.<p>

Even after everything that followed after that first kiss in the sticky Neverland heat (Oh, God, the _heat_ of that kiss), she never forgot it, not even after a year of memory loss and a lifetime of fake memories packed into her brain, the Wicked Witch, their trip through time, Elsa and the Ice Queen, Emma still remembered the way the tension snapped between them _finally_ and they crashed together like waves hitting beach. That spark between them blew into an open flame and she learned just a little bit more about the pirate she climbed a beanstalk with. He was utter passion. Forget the cool, aloof at times, man with his waves of bored indifference. Hook was like a wildfire when he kissed, his mouth burning into hers and heating and forging her to fit his mouth alone. But then, as tantalizingly aggressive as he was, his hand and hook stayed moderately well-behaved. It was that gentleman thing he was always swearing to and Emma would have spent hours/days/weeks thinking about how the two things were so wonderfully _him_ if she hadn't been so freaked out by her own response to him, that of her body, and even more so, her heart.

Fast forward a year after nearly wrecking her parents' True Love and removing herself from existence, and the front porch of Granny's on a relatively quiet night in Storybrooke, _home_, was the next classroom for learning the man who had somehow become so important to her life that she couldn't help but seek him out even when surrounded by her family. Emma was no stranger to feeling like you didn't belong so it didn't surprise her to find Killian out by himself, sipping from his flask. That fairly adorable reluctance he had to accept any sort of praise for saving the day, she already knew, just as she knew the way he could tell her deep dark secrets of how he felt in a simple look and sentence. _I know h__ow you kiss. I would've gone after her._ And when he dropped that final bomb on her, the one he obviously never would have mentioned had she not straight out asked him, she never wanted anything more than to kiss him again. And she did. And he taught her the tenderness he was capable of, probably locked away in a special box inside his chest that he hadn't unlocked in hundreds of years. He taught her the depth of his hesitancy with her, the disbelief, and then the crushing wave of something like _finally_ as they continued. The soft press of his lips, the gentle and reverent touch of his hand, and that gentle stroke of tongue were all teaching her him, Killian Jones, Captain Hook, a lover who gave up his home so she could find hers, and who could kiss her softly like she was his entire shining world.

Little did she know then that these were only the start. The beginning lessons to learning and loving her pirate, her Killian, who always seemed to have more to teach her.

* * *

><p><em>1. Desire<em>

Their first time didn't exactly happen as soon as Emma always thought it would, though it wasn't for lack of trying. Steadily, as their relationship continued to endure fairytale nonsense, their matching sets of emotional scars, and then the constant everyday things that tempered a man and a woman, their kisses weren't content with just kissing.

Each time, it was that Neverland passion all over again. Never did she think she'd have a good reason to reference that damn place but Killian's serious kisses were all consuming, sultry, sexy, _take me_ kisses and Emma never needed anything more. Hell, she didn't think there was any more he could give!

Shame on her...

"Fucking finally, love," he gasped before diving back into her mouth, their hands and his hook peeling clothes from each other as they clumsily made their way through the apartment to her bedroom.

It was an understatement if there ever was one. They were so long overdue and after failed attempt after failed attempt at stopping the world long enough to just have each other and seal those pretty 'I love you's' they'd finally been saying out loud, they had their moment. Some of it was due to yet another thrilling victory for the Savior and her Fairytale Gang, another big bad put down bringing on a short lull to Storybrooke's madness, and then part of it was Emma flat out putting her foot down and dragging her pirate away before anyone could snare them into the traditional party at Granny's.

"I know," she gasped as she popped a few of the last buttons on his dark shirt in her hurry, the skip-skid sound like rain on a roof as they danced across the hardwood floor, and she shoved the thing from him, fingers raking through the hair on his chest. "God, Killian. I want you so much."

Her mouth latched on to his collarbone and worked up, lavishing attention on that neck of his that always had a way of getting her instantly hot and bothered no matter what she was supposed to be doing. There was no slowing herself down now that she had him alone and she cringed with disappointment when she thought of their first time going too fast. She wanted to savor him, to love him slow, to learn all the secret places on his body he liked to be touched, but the inferno blazing between them just wouldn't quit until he was deep inside her, falling apart, and chanting her name.

The bedroom door clicked behind them and the change in the air was almost tangible, though Emma didn't know what it was yet. Killian pulled her away from his throat, eyes dark and serious, promising her the unspeakable things he was going to do to her. It took her breath away and she could only stare at him as he reached behind her and unhooked her bra, then slowly slipped his hook through the front and pulled it away from her body. Her jeans were lost somewhere near the front door and Killian, darkened eyes still firmly locked on hers, slipped the panties down her hips, letting them drop to the floor and leaving her completely bare for him. His eyes finally left hers to sweep across her body, his hand tracing his path, and as much as Emma loved the hunger in his features and the adoration in his touch, she _needed_ him.

"Killian, please," she breathed, her hands trembling as she pulled his belt from their loops.

His arm went around her waist and snatched her against him before she could get his pants totally undone. His hand grabbed her jaw so that their noses were touching, lips so agonizingly close, but he held her still, letting the tension build to something ridiculous.

Finally, the tiniest smirk tilted his lips and the blue of his eyes let in just a hint of mischief. Emma was outright shaking in his arms. She wanted to beg him to hurry up and _take her_, forgetting her earlier wish to go slow, but he was wielding his own magic over her and whatever he was up to, she wasn't about to break the spell.

Eyes drifting to her lips, Killian slowly licked the tip of his tongue over the seam and Emma's knees gave. He had her, of course, and kept her upright and she was lost in the feel of skin on skin where their chests were pressed together and the leather of his pants against her naked thighs. On top of all that, the lick was sensory overload but Killian, as was only right, took her further.

"Emma, open your mouth," he breathed huskily.

"Oh, fuck," she whimpered in response before doing what he asked.

His thumb coaxed her chin down when she apparently didn't open up as wide as he liked before kissing her like no one had before. Their lips pressed together and his tongue darted into her mouth, rolling against hers in the dirtiest, most erotic thing she'd ever had happen to her. Emma gasped out loud and he did it again, a flutter of tongue on hers before a full sweep and then a suck on her lower lip, almost like he was...

Emma cried out, nearly came on the spot, as she realized what he was doing. She'd had several fantasies by this point involving Killian's face between her thighs and it looked like tonight she was finally going to get it, but he was giving her a preview beforehand. She didn't know whether to smack him or thank him.

It wasn't right for anyone to kiss like that. Nobody kissed like that! But Killian was the exception to the rule, apparently, and he continued to kiss her, tongue rolling, flicking, thrusting into her mouth until she was whimpering, _near tears_ she was wound so tight, and her bare body was trying to find a way to press closer to him.

"Please. Please, Killian. Please, please, oh God, please," she mumbled again and again, breaking away weakly and begging for him to end the teasing but also, never to stop. His chuckle was husky and dark and his only response. It sent shivers up her spine and other places too.

The cool touch of the quilt on the bed hit her back before she could register being laid out for him and as he traveled right where she was aching for him, Emma promised herself to sort out all this new information about her Killian first thing in the morning and bless the stars in her eyes for her fantastic, skilled, and amazing lover.

* * *

><p><em>2. Hurt<em>

As much as Killian was ever the snarky pirate, flirty rapscallion, and confident man, as their relationship progressed, Emma learned to love those vulnerable bits of him just as much. True, he played them down or covered them up completely, but there's only so much hiding you can do when you start living together. So, as surely as he learned her need to take apart an appliance (rather violently) whenever she was frustrated and how she didn't like to get up early but could be easily bought with the smell of a pot of coffee or a mug of cocoa, Emma learned how he was obsessed with How It's Made to the point of willing to fight or bribe for control of the remote and how there were times when he didn't talk, when the past haunted him and he would find her on the couch and make her his personal pillow, not explaining, not sharing, just there. And being all too familiar with her own not so great past, Emma never pressed for answers, she just gave him whatever comfort she could as they watched TV or she read to him whatever book she had.

It was harder the more she was with him and soon, the need to take care of him and heal every crack in his heart began to overwhelm her.

Alone and curled up on her couch with a book on her day off, a luxury she hadn't enjoyed for much too long, Emma still grinned happily when Killian came home.

"Hey, you," she said as he hung up his coat. "How was it today?"

He gave her a half smile as he toed out of his boots. "All's well in Storybrooke, love."

The words were true enough but Emma knew he was in one of those greyer moods. The weather outside had been misty and glum all day which didn't help but she could tell something else was weighing on him as he said nothing else, just climbed onto the sofa behind her, adjusting her gently until he was spooning her, his face tucked into her neck. Outside, the rain picked up with a rumble of thunder rolling through the air behind it.

She'd never asked before, never wanted to invade his privacy or make it worse by making him voice whatever was bothering him, but he was obviously _hurting_, to the point that he was cuddled up with her and hiding his face in her back until it passed. Emma knew nightmares and bad memories and he'd taken care of her so many times when she'd woken up shaking and screaming, when she didn't know what to do when Storybrooke's fairytale madness raged around them and she worried herself crazy. They were a team, at the _very_ least, and it was her turn to start taking care of him.

"You know you can talk to me," she said as she reached out to put her book on the coffee table. She drew his arm tighter around her when her hands were free. "If you ever need to or want to, I mean. You can."

Silence.

Emma didn't worry too much. It was hard to open up and she knew that probably more than anyone, so she just stroked his arm and closed her eyes to enjoy the snuggle for a while. She was more than a little surprised when he actually spoke and his words broke her heart.

"I miss my brother," he said simply.

Tears welled in her eyes at the admission. Never having siblings herself, well, not until recently, she couldn't exactly understand the relationship but she'd been learning things like family and home since choosing to stay in Storybrooke and the idea of losing any part of that was unbearable. If after hundreds of years, Killian still missed his brother, Emma knew the bond between them was stronger than anything she could possibly imagine.

"It doesn't hurt quite like it used to," he continued, no longer hiding in her back but speaking gently near her ear. "But sometimes your father, with all his stubborn noble-mindedness and his never ending reverence for _duty, _it reminds me of Liam and I just miss him." Killian sighed once and Emma rubbed her feet against his, not really sure how to console him, but desperately needing to. "Some days it feels like his death was a thousand lifetimes ago and sometimes it feels like only yesterday."

"What can I do?" Emma asked. She was beginning to regret asking him to confide in her because she had no idea how to make it better, and if she couldn't take care of him, what good was she?

Killian rolled her towards him until she was staring up into his eyes. The smallest smile was on his lips. "You're already doing it, love. Thank you."

Her heart stuttered when she saw the honesty there on his face. It gave her more happiness than she thought possible to know that she could comfort him and before she could make the move, Killian beat her to it, leaning in to close the short distance between their lips.

Sure, they'd had their tender moments, moments full of so much feeling it felt like her heart was bursting at its seams, but this, while incredibly tender, was something different. Soft and chaste, a sweet, slow press of lips and then another, and another, and another, like he needed that first moment, that thrill, that homecoming, again and again to soothe the jagged scars on his heart, all while keeping his blue eyes open and staring into hers.

It might have unnerved Emma in another life, kissing with no eyelids to hide behind, but he looked at her like she was a treasure and for once, even through all her insecurities, she actually believed that she was that for him and that somehow she _did_ make it better, she _did_ soothe his heart cracked open for her. He looked at her like she was the stars to his sky, the missing piece of himself, the lost girl to his lost boy. And her heart soared.

"Do you want... to tell me about him?" she offered softly between kisses, feeling more confident in her ability to care for his heart.

Killian grinned, a real grin. "He would've liked you."

"Oh, no," she joked. "Don't tell me I would've had both of the handsome Jones brothers after me."

"No, no," he said with his own laugh. "Liam preferred sweet lasses and while you are the sweetest I've ever tasted, you'd have been a bit too much fire for my brother."

Emma had to giggle at that. "Oh, but not for a 'good form' lieutenant?"

"I was less naïve than you seem to think, love."

"Oh, really?"

"Aye," he chuckled, taking a moment to brush his fingers through her hair. "If you want to hear about him, I would be glad to tell you, but can we perhaps order some of that Chinese food for dinner first? I am famished after keeping law and order with your father all bloody day."

"Yeah, of course," Emma agreed, stealing another one of those kisses he taught her.

She ordered extra rangoons because she knew he loved them and the look he gave her when he pulled them from the bag was so adoring, she could only blush, proud that she could do even the littlest thing for him.

* * *

><p><em>3. Anger<em>

They didn't fight as much as Emma always supposed they would when she was first throwing around the idea of a _them. _There was no taking that pirate out of him, not that she ever wanted to, but more than just the hook and the penchant for black leather, he was his own man with his own opinions and a fierce way of defending them, not unlike her. Still, they managed to work things out before losing their cool with each other.

Perhaps it was just a matter of time. Then again, perhaps it wasn't the _greatest_ idea to run off on her own and go after the Jolly. But the opportunity was there, a swirling portal with her name on it (_well_, Blackbeard's name on it as he opened it and made his escape from Storybrooke with it after wreaking considerable havoc seeking his revenge against a certain Captain Hook until finally being _persuaded_ to leave, but whatever) and it was her chance to do something huge for Killian after all he'd done for her! Henry was with her watching the swirling whirlpool of green slowly swallow up the Jolly Roger and was already throwing out this mission's title: Operation Jolly Rescue, before she could say anything. Time was slipping away, it was only moments before the portal closed. She had her magic to protect herself, a magic bean in her pocket that she'd swiped off of Blackbeard before he ran off with his tail between his legs. It was going to work! It did work! But as the sun set on the following night and she coaxed the enchanted Jolly Roger to park herself at Storybrooke's docks where her pirate was pacing, she didn't see the floored look of gratitude and love she was expecting. Just flat out fury.

He was on board before she could even leave the quarterdeck.

"What in the _bloody hell_ were you thinking, Emma?" he hollered, meeting her at the stairs to the helm.

Emma's hackles rose despite how happy _she _was to see him and the thrill of her victory still humming fresh in her veins. She was pissed. It was all wrong! She was supposed to come back with the Jolly and get a big fucking kiss and maybe even a few hours in the Captain's bunk after he told her how much he loved her and the total lack of all that was like a dull thud in her heart.

"Nice to see you too!" she yelled in return. "Oh! And you're welcome!"

Killian growled and snarled a curse. "Do you think I give one good damn about this thing when it comes to you? Bloody _fucking _hell, woman, I gave her up to find you and-"

"Yeah! And I got her back for you! What the hell, Killian?"

"You were gone, Emma!" he roared louder than she'd ever heard him. Hell, all of Storybrooke probably heard him and the wind around them even stilled lest he notice and decide to yell at it too. "You never came home last night. You. Were. Gone_,_" he continued, only a notch lower in volume. "I was about to burn this town to the bloody ground looking for you, Swan, until Henry came and told me where you were!"

"I was trying to do something nice for you, dammit. I was fine-"

"You bloody jumped worlds to steal back my ship from Blackbeard, Emma! What if something happened to you? What if you couldn't come back or I couldn't go get you? What if I lost you forever?"

His voice broke right along with Emma's heart. She knew he'd worry but she was so consumed with her plan, of the hope of seeing him fall over himself with joy, that she didn't think of how she would nearly break him. And she never would have left if she didn't have a way to come back! But thanks to his words all the what if's she hadn't stopped to consider tumbled out inside her head as she stepped into his boots and the grief and fear nearly overwhelmed her.

"I had a chance," she began softly, still hoping he'd understand what she did. "And a plan that was going to work. I'm sorry. But I just wanted you to have her."

Killian's face softened just the tiniest bit but he shook his head swiftly. "Emma, I would sink her to the bottom of the sodding ocean, I would chop her up for firewood before losing you. She means nothing to me if she costs me you!"

"But she didn't!"

"But she could have! Dammit, Emma!"

They were back to yelling again and Emma was just about to grab him by that damned gorgeous new leather coat he wore now and steal her fucking welcome home kiss before unleashing her defense again, but Killian beat her to it. With a quick, firm hand he yanked her down the stairs and into his arms, his mouth instantly on hers.

Killian pissed off was a totally different animal.

He didn't hurt her, God, he'd _never_ hurt her, but his lips smashed into hers and Emma knew they'd both be bruised from it. Chaste was not an option and his hand immediately fisted into her hair and tilted her right where he wanted her so he could dive into her open mouth with his deep sweeping tongue. Even as riled as Emma was, she wasn't about to stop him. Killian's kisses were one of her favorite things in the world and she'd never tasted him like this. It was awesome! And she was still riding pretty high on adrenaline, worry, danger, and emotions herself so she was kissing him back just as furiously, the two of them nearly attacking each other there on the deck, both trying to kiss harder, nip sharper, squeeze tighter.

Somewhere in the midst of their fire, her leg ended up hitched around his hips and her own instinctively rolled over where she could feel him hard through their clothes. With a loud moan, she had to throw her head back out of the kiss at the solid wall of pleasure that smacked into her. She was on fire and she wasn't alone. With a heated curse from Killian, he was hauling her to the Captain's cabin.

After two storms in the tiny little bunk, Killian was out like a light and Emma traced the boyishly gentle lines of his face while he slept. The contrast from his earlier fire was a little stumbling but she found herself just as enamored by the angry pirate as she was the slumbering man there beside her.

As her mind replayed the kiss on deck and then the explosion in his cabin, she was never more aware of how much he felt for her. And it wasn't a simple thing, either. No, Killian loved her with everything he had, with every bit of himself. It was there in every crushing embrace, (_I was out of my mind with worry_) every branding, white-hot kiss, (_I won't make it without you_) every deep, hard thrust of his hips (_You're mine and I'm yours. Weren't we supposed to be a team, darling?_) and then in the touch of his forehead against hers only moments before, his hand gently massaging her inner thighs until he fell asleep (_My lass, don't you know how much I love you?_).

They _were _a team and had roles been reversed she'd have been just as angry as he was, for she loved him just as fiercely, needed him just as much. And she promised herself never to forget it as she waited for him to wake up. Now that they'd worked out their frustration, she had a story to tell him of how she rescued his Jolly Roger.

* * *

><p><em>4. Play<em>

For anybody else, three hundred plus years of hard living, heartbreaks, and hate would have made that person too rigid for fun, too damaged for the lighter things in life, but maybe the heart was more resilient thing than Emma gave it credit for.

It was true that Killian was definitely damaged, scarred from years of hurt, but she always thought of it as kind of a beautiful damaged, like an old chair that is incredibly comfortable but has a rip in the upholstery so you patch it up with some different but coordinating fabric and it becomes something new. The rip doesn't hide, if anything, the fact that it was ripped is now completely on display, but it's not ashamed and it's an even better chair than before.

He'd kill her if he ever knew she'd compared him to a _bloody_ chair but it was the best explanation she could come up with whenever she thought about just how playful the man could be.

"Hey!" she said as she stepped through the door and hung up her coat and bag. Killian was at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled amazing. Surprisingly, her pirate was actually quite a cook and she stepped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling between his shoulder blades. "What are you making me?"

"Um, just a bit of stew for the chill in the air," he replied a little bashfully. "Almost ready."

"Mmm. It smells good."

Killian turned around in her arms and kissed her once in hello, the wooden spoon he was using coming to hover near her face. "Care for a taste, love?"

Emma greedily nodded her head because it was a long day at the Storybrooke Sheriff Station and lunch was only a half of a grilled cheese shoved in her face and dammit, his stew smelled amazing and she was already picking out a wine in her head and thinking some cheddar cheese on top would be _awesome_ when Killian ran that cooking spoon right over her nose.

An outraged, strangled gasp was the only sound she could make and Killian immediately exploded with laughter. It was an infectious damn thing that had her wide open mouth turning into a grin.

Still laughing, he returned the spoon to the pot and then proceeded to lick the traces of stew off her nose with one swipe of his tongue.

"Mmm, bloody hell, I'm good," he moaned. "That's delicious."

"Killian Jones, I will end you!" she growled, trying not to laugh.

"Aye, you say that often enough. Perhaps one day I'll believe you."

Emma gasped again as he just stood there grinning at her. Oh, he was going to pay.

Before he could brace himself the retaliation that was _definitely_ coming, she snatched the spoon from the pot and tapped him in the cheek with it with a satisfying wet smack. His eyes went wide as she danced away laughing but he was ready to play and he snatched a nearby dishtowel, cleaning off his cheek before snapping it experimentally with a flick of his wrist.

Scrambling now, Emma flew to the fridge to grab a waiting can of coke but couldn't get in and out of there fast enough. A sharp snap from his towel caught her right in the ass and she screamed as she ran around the kitchen island, shaking her can furiously as she went. He got her again, this time on the other cheek as she ran away from him. It wasn't as hard as the first one and Emma knew he was just showing off the control he had. That first one would probably bruise and she laughed at the thought of making him make it up to her later on that night.

"Don't make me, Killian!" she warned amidst her laughter. Killian was laughing just as much as she was, even to the point of tears misting his eyes, and she didn't think she'd ever heard him laugh so hard.

"What are you going to do? Chuck a tin can at me, love?" he taunted, flicking and snapping his towel lazily as he looked for another opening to get her.

Emma snickered as she stepped a little closer and prepared her own weapon. "Nope. Something better!"

The look of surprise on his face was priceless as she cracked the tab on her coke, sending spewing waves of soda right at him. His shock didn't last more than a second, though, and he was charging her and stealing the can to dump the rest on her, the icy cold pop soaking into her hair and her shirt, making her jerk wildly as the cold hit her breasts.

"Sailor, Swan! Do you think getting wet ever bothered me?" he laughed.

Before she could form a reply, a wrong step on the slick tile as she tried to wiggle away sent her to the floor, but as usual, Killian was there to save her, flipping so he took the brunt of the fall.

"Are- are you o- okay?" she laughed as he groaned beneath her. She couldn't help herself from playfully licking some of the pop from his cheek.

Chuckling, Killian rolled her beneath him and started pressing quick kisses all over her face with no rhyme or reason to the pattern, just covering her in kisses as they laughed together on the wet floor. She screamed when he started tickling her and when she struggled to escape him, he blew a raspberry on her cheek, distracting her so he could pin her down more securely with his body.

Amidst the fun, her heart still snagged her brain's attention. Her tender, gentle pirate. Killian had a heart with the need to love and be loved stitched right into it, but his playfulness always seemed to catch her by surprise. Sure, he did the teasing flirtation like he wrote the book on it and his sarcasm was as sharp as it was funny, but sheer boyish play wasn't something she ever really expected from him. It struck a chord deep inside her while he moved his kisses down to her ribs where his light nips were doing the tickling and making her squeal with more laughter. And there in the midst of their play, nothing was clearer to her.

"Killian," she said, trying to calm down. He didn't stop though and instead of listening to her, he ducked his head under her shirt and continued his tickle assault. She was laughing so hard, tears poured over her cheeks but she had something important to do so she found the strength to push him away and roll him over, taking a seat on his chest to hold him there. His eyebrows danced appreciatively at the fact that she was nearly straddling his face.

"Stop, you fool, I need to tell you something!" she giggled.

"Anything, love," Killian smiled at her, obediently halting the counter attack that was no doubt coming for her.

Emma swallowed hard and her heart was at a full sprint. It was stupid but she always got this way before she said the words. "I love you, Killian."

He smiled but looked at her like he was waiting for the catch which made her laugh.

"I love you," she repeated instead with a huge smile. Sure, they'd said it many times before but right then after goofing off in the kitchen, covered in sticky pop, with the dinner he made for her filling the room with an awesome, comforting smell, it was one of those moments where she needed to tell him again. "I love you so damn much, Killian. I should tell you more often, I know, and- "

Killian's hand landed gently over her mouth, stopping her, and she moved back into his lap as he sat up. "Love, I don't need your words to know," he said softly. "But it's always bloody nice to hear them. I love you too, Emma."

It _was_ always nice to hear them and the pair of them were grinning like fools when they kissed again. There was too much general giddiness for the kiss to be anything but silly, however. Laughing into the mouth of your partner wasn't exactly the epitome of romantic kisses after big romantic statements, but it was so right and perfect that Emma wasn't about to complain or stop. Giggling, Killian traveled his flurry of kisses back to the ticklish spots he found at her jaw and below her ear until she was squirming in his lap and begging him to stop.

"Mmm, you need a bath, love," he joked, having mercy on her and taking another kiss from her lips.

Emma threw her head back and laughed. Her heart was so free, it might fly away if her pirate didn't have such a hold on it. "I'm not the only one! Maybe later you and I can, um, clean up together, but food first. I'm hungry."

Killian cocked a confident eyebrow at her as his fingers found their way under her shirt to tickle her sides again. "I'm fairly certain I could make you forget all about food, love."

"So am I," she grinned.

He winked at her, obviously hungry as well or there was no way he'd let her win so easily, and the two of them climbed up from the floor, grabbing towels to clean themselves up. Killian served up bowls of the now steaming hot stew he made while she uncorked a bottle of red wine and poured, smiling wide at the rush of everything that was the man that was hers and the fact that she was absolutely and unashamedly in love with every bit of Killian Jones.

* * *

><p><em>5. Forever<em>

The day Emma said her vows to bind herself to Killian Jones, she meant every single word. Love, cherish, honor, til death do us part. She already did all of that anyways. (Seriously, even that til death part had been tested quite a few times) Marrying him was really the easiest decision she ever made. He was her home and her life, her partner and her friend, and then her husband. It didn't get any better than that! But really, after living and loving with Killian Jones for as long as she had, she should know better.

There were no limits to the amount of joy he could bring her.

At first, as was only natural for her, Emma panicked when she saw the positive sign on the test. With no good memories from her first pregnancy (that weren't due to Regina's magic) and her ongoing role as Savior in a town full of fairy tale characters, having a baby, even _with _the love of her life, was terrifying.

Her nerves made her so sick to her stomach that instead of gently breaking the news to the new daddy as he stepped through the door, she kind of shouted it at him before she ran to the bathroom to hurl. Later on she would laugh about it until she cried because when she finally came out of the bathroom, Killian looked like she'd smacked him with a 2x4 and she'd just trembled with tears pouring over her face and a thousand insecurities freaking out inside her head until he was pulling her into his arms and thanking her amongst his stunned laughter and kisses. He soothed every fear she had calmly and patiently, and with the cloud gone from over her head, it was easy to let her hope grow.

It grew right along with her and her excitement in the months that followed and all she could think about between her raging hormones, her hunger for cheese pizza with pickle slices on top, and her nearly ravenous hunger for Killian, was the thought of a little boy or a little girl who looked just like their daddy. It was that dream and Killian's help that kept any worries well at bay even through the normal Storybrooke disasters and then even during the sudden emergency evacuation of her life from the Land Without Magic to the Enchanted Forest.

Heavy at eight months, she still handled the trip through the portal like a pro but no sooner had the Jolly settled and Killian set their course for her parents' castle, _her _castle, she went into labor. Thankfully, they'd planned for the worst case scenario (on top of the _already_ worst case scenario) and the Jolly had all the right people on board like her mother, Doc, and Whale. Hours later when the sun broke over the water's horizon, Emma had her little boy and her little girl nestled in her arms.

"Oh, God, Killian. They're beautiful," she sobbed after her mom finished clearing the room to give them privacy. She was propped up with pillows in his bunk and Killian sat with her, eyes wide with awe as he delicately stroked the tufts of black hair on his babies' heads.

"Aye," he replied hoarsely, like _he'd _been the one screaming in pain. "They're absolutely beautiful. Emma, thank you, love. Thank you." He laughed once, a short burst, before speaking again. "But I'm never touching you again if it puts you through that much pain!"

Emma grinned, wishing she could smack him for thinking such a thing but her hands were full. "Like hell, you won't!" she growled instead. "I'll make you." They laughed together for a moment while the twins slept on and those easy tears filled her eyes again. "It was so worth it, Killian."

"Very much so. You did brilliantly, love. You scared the bloody hell out of me but you were brilliant."

He wiped away the tears falling from her eyes and as she stared at him in probably the same amount of adoration she did the twins in her arms, she couldn't help but think about beanstalks and giants, handcuffs and magic beans, and a sticky kiss in Neverland. Their story.

"Perhaps gratitude is in order," she said with a watery laugh and a smile for him, hoping he remembered.

Killian had to chew on his lower lip to hold back his own emotions but he managed to laugh and play along because of course he remembered. "Please. You couldn't handle it."

Emma shook her head as more tears came and when she leaned forward the little bit that she could, he was there to meet her. They managed to kiss both tenderly and passionately even with the twins nestled between them, not yet old enough to complain about the outrageous PDA happening right above them, and the steady press of their lips carried every adventure, every feeling they'd had along the way, and the promise of so much more to come.

She couldn't wait. This life with her growing family was infinitely precious and she knew it never would have been as wonderful as it was were it not for Killian. He taught her how to love, after all. He taught her True Love (Thankfully they hadn't found an opportunity where they had to test that title but she knew like she knew the sky was blue), and how to cherish every single moment, and she was pretty sure he was already teaching her the meaning of forever as the Jolly sailed a smooth path to their new home.

"Wait!" she gasped, startling her husband. "Who's steering the ship?"

Killian laughed. "Your firstborn, love. I gave him a quick lesson before these two made their appearance. We've a while before he has any land to crash into."

Emma threw her head back and laughed, her twins only mildly bothered by the interruption to their nap. They fell back to sleep easily enough and didn't even stir when Killian came in for another kiss, one for each of their children and then one for her, a little more R rated than was probably proper for post birth, not that she was really complaining.

"You can't kiss mommies like that," she breathed against his lips.

"The hell I can't," he said, nipping at her lip just to prove himself.

She giggled as their kiss continued and there was something new there to learn that she probably should have figured out a long time ago.

She was going to have a lot of kids with that man.

And she was just fine with that.


End file.
